


The Music or the Misery

by smolonde



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Real World, Aro ace Jade Harley, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, Polyamorous Relationships, band au, so gay i'm crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 22:25:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4155261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolonde/pseuds/smolonde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat Vantas is a penniless college graduate, making a living with only his guitar. One night, when he plays for tips on the street, he meets two girls who invite him into their world; one where he can play with a band. Karkat finds himself thrust headfirst into the band, and discovers an unfamiliar world of sexuality, music, substance, and family.<br/>EDIT: This fic is off hiatus now, and it's been completed!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which A Street Musician Finds Solidarity

You jostle yourself out of the thin doorway, your shoulders hitting the frame. The stairs of your apartment dip dangerously, a maze to navigate so that you don’t fall and hit your head, a treacherous balancing act with your guitar slung over your back. As you make it through you the doors, you spy a street corner that seems to have a few people making their way through the night. It’s dark, and the night is cold, but it’ll do. You only need to earn enough to get some Hot Pockets at the corner store.

You sit down on the pavement, grimacing at how hard the pavement is below your bony ass, but you suck it up, trying to ignore the snow seeping through the back of your jeans. You maneuver the guitar case, black with red My Chemical Romance stickers on it, so that it is right on your lap. Unzipping the case, you see your finest, most beautiful possession, and your breath hitches for just a moment.

The Mayor is lifted into the air, your hand around his neck. His polished red body shines in the streetlamps, and his mother-of-pearl frets glimmer with secrets that can only be revealed by your strumming fingers. His body has not a single dent on it, and his strings are fresh and shiny. You breathe in, and his familiar perfume drifts into your nostrils, a scent of pine and polish. As he catches the moonlight, you find yourself smiling fondly. Then you snap out of it and begin to tune.

It doesn’t take you more than a minute to tune the Mayor; your body is so connected to his that you know every inch of him. You turn the pegs, feeling in your body where they hit that sweet spot that makes him sound like a golden harp. After a few experimental strums, you begin to play.

Your introduction to the song is strong, and a five-dollar bill is thrown into your guitar case. You continue playing the intro for as long as you can, gaining more tips.

You’re a good guitarist; you were one of the best in your music school. Classical guitar was one of your most fervent passions as a child, and as you grew older, you realized your ability to play other songs. It started with basic chord progressions; old songs like John Lennon’s _Imagine_ and Morrison’s _Brown-Eyed Girl._ You quickly outgrew those and began to play far more complicated songs, using the electric guitar at the community center to learn riffs for _Carry on Wayward Son_. Your family never had much money; your dad and older brother worked as traveling preachers, so you moved around quite a lot in your old Volkswagen. Music was the only constant you had left, so you played. And one day, a scout from GCAT University, one of the most prestigious music schools in the country, saw you playing Santana in some trailer park where he was on vacation, and offered you an audition. The rest is history; you got a full ride, became a rising college star; Karkat Vantas, a name that everyone knew; and then lost it all when you graduated and went back to being penniless, scraping by with a shared apartment and getting a job as a guitar teacher by day.

You’re a damn good guitarist, probably the best in the city, but you’re the worst singer imaginable.

When you start to sing, you immediately notice the atmospheric change. Pedestrians freeze for a moment, looking at you with disgust, and someone throws a wad of gum in your guitar case. You’re about to flip a shit at the horrific monster who has defiled the Mayor’s home, but you feel a rush of shame and decide against it.

You continue to sing, getting the occasional rustle of loose change falling in your case from pedestrians who feel sorry for you. When you finish the song, there is a small smattering of claps, but some asshole yells “They’re clapping because it’s over!” You flip him off and start a new song.

The familiar chord strikes up a song that you remember fondly from your high school days. You had a girlfriend for a while, a sweetheart whose eyes would light up every time she heard you sing. You remember flipping locks of black hair from your eyes, ringed with eyeliner for the tortured musician effect, and saying in a husky voice, “This one’s for you, babe.” And to the sound of her happy squealing, you’d start rasping out the lyrics.

_Love of mine, someday you will die_

A mother pulls her laughing daughter away, the sound of her spiteful laughter lingering.

_But I’ll be close behind, I’ll follow you into the dark_

A small ball of tinfoil is thrown at you as you croak your way through the verse, and some teenagers standing nearby start to boo you. By the time you get to the chorus, there are unwanted tears of humiliation running down your cheeks.

_If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied-_

And you break down. Your humiliation is evident in the hiccupping sobs that echo in the darkness. Then, from behind you, you hear a fluting alto voice singing into the empty air.

“Illuminate the no’s on their vacancy signs,”

You turn, almost dropping the Mayor.  Behind you stand two women, one of them short and slim, wearing a jade-green hijab over the locks of raven hair that you can see peeking out at her temple. The other is tall and blonde, wearing clunky platform-heeled boots and a plaid shirt, leaning up against the wall with a bored expression on her face. The short one, who looks at you almost tenderly, nods at your guitar and continues singing. You start strumming slowly, tears freezing on your face as you play in confusion.

“If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks, then I will follow you into the dark.”

The short girl looks at the other, who rolls her eyes and starts to sing.

“In Catholic school, vicious as Roman rule, I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black.”

Your mouth hangs open, shocked that such a slovenly girl, whose hair seems to have never seen a brush, has such a beautiful voice. Her dark second soprano voice floats in the air, holding out for a seemingly impossible timespan, and you have to take a few breaths to absorb it. Your fingers fly across the fingerboard as the two girls reach the chorus, their voices harmonizing in a way that you’ve never heard before. Never, to your ear, have two voices seemed to know each other so well. Your fingers stop moving altogether at the bridge of the song, just listening to the girls sing a cappella.

“You and me have seen everything to see, from Bangkok to Calgary, and the soles of your shoes are all worn out, the time for sleep is now…”

And as they spiral into a high note together, your heart threatens to beat out of your ribcage. They descend softly, their voices seeming to hold hands and intertwine.

You gently let their voices fade into the sound of your guitar, and in the silence that normally follows your performance, you hear applause. You look over at your guitar case, which is filled with fives and ones. Your jaw is threatening to hit the floor, and the tall girl looks at you with a condescending smirk.

“Come on. You’re not gonna sit here all night, yeah?” She kicks your case towards you, and before you can start yelling at her, she cuts you off. “We’re getting coffee. It’s not an invitation.”

The short one looks at the tall one in exasperation. “Let’s go, dear. We should hurry; the city is darkening as we speak.” She nods at you. “Come along.”

You place the Mayor in his case, still gaping after them, then follow their retreating backs.

                                                            ***

The girls have introduced themselves. The tall one is Vriska Serket, the short one is Kanaya Maryam, and they’re girlfriends. That’s all you know about them, yet for some reason you’re still following them to a café. You guess that nothing bad can really come of it.

It takes you about five minutes to get to the café, and during that time Kanaya has been asking the most meddlesome, invasive questions possible. _Have you been playing for long? How does a wonderful guitarist like you remain jobless? Where are you from? Where’s your family?_ You give one-word answers, still puzzled.

When you shove open the doors to the café, the first thing that catches your eye is a crowded table in the corner. Vriska and Kanaya guide you over to it, and as you sit, you start taking in the others around you.

The first person that catches your eye is a short, thin girl with bright red hair and shades. She has sharp incisors, which gleam when she talks, and her laugh is literally a cackle. Vriska walks over to her and hugs her tightly, giving a genuine smile.

The guys on either side of her are definitely brothers. They’re both tall and pale with bleach-blond hair and shades, and they have the same facial structure. The one wearing triangle shades has a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks, and both are solemn and sit with a posture that suggests confidence and calm.

A dark-skinned girl at the head of the table catches your eye. Her mouth is open and smiling, revealing buck teeth and braces. Her green eyes gleam in the light, and she takes a voracious bite of chicken, seemingly tearing it to shreds in a moment. She gestures at a guy on the right, and you turn your gaze to him.

The guy on the right is tall, lanky, and Asian. He wears thick-rimmed 3D glasses and a skeletal frame, and when he stands up to walk over to the counter, you catch a glimpse of his ass, which is fine as hell.

You snap out of your ass-induced fantasy and take a seat to the right of Kanaya. She delicately waves her hand, silencing the buzz and chatter of the table.

“This is Karkat Vantas. He’s a guitarist that Vriska and I had the pleasure to meet tonight.”

A chorus of “Hi, Karkat!” echoes around the table. The others start calling out their names.

“Terezi!”

“Jade!”

“Dave.”

“Sollux.”

“Dirk.”

You nod, pretending that you totally know whose name matches the faces you took in earlier. “Uh. Hi.”

Kanaya goes to make some more small talk, but Vriska stands up and leans over the table, getting right in your face. “Listen, Vantas, I don’t like beating around the bush. We’re trying to start a band and we need a guitarist. You in or not?”

The table’s murmurs start, and your mind goes blank. For a brief second your eyes shine, imagining the prospect of standing in front of an adoring crowd again, the cheers of your name, the sweat dripping off down your neck. You see the flashing cameras surrounding you once again, signing sheets of papers and shirts and such, hearing praise rain down on you, the roar of the crowd when you start playing—

“No. Forget it. I’m classically trained, I’m better at acoustic than electric, and I want to actually have some kind of money. Find someone else.”

The skinny guy at next to the smiling girl starts to speak. “Well, fine, you don’t have to be a—“

The smiling girl pats his arm and looks at him. “Sollux, let me handle this.”

She rises out of her chair, showing that she’s a little taller than you, maybe six feet tall. “Karkat, right? All right. You might not make all that much money, but Vriska works at a pretty nice grunge bar downtown, and she can book us gigs. Most of us are classically trained; Dave and Dirk are DJs as well as instrumentalists, Vriska and Kanaya majored in vocal pedagogy, Sollux has been playing piano for fifteen years. Terezi and I,” she gestures to the redhead “are the only ones who aren’t classically trained. So we have a pretty good bet at being a fairly good band, that is, if you’re in. We’ve been talking about starting a band for a while, and we have enough people to do it now. So, are you in? Kanaya says you’re good, and we really need someone like you here.”

You look at their faces, brimming with hope. People you don’t even know, and here you are actually considering this bullshit. “Who plays what? It’d be nice to know what I’m signing up for. _If_ I do it, that is.”

You see a spark of hope in the girl’s eyes. “Well, Terezi plays drums, Vriska and Kanaya are vocals. Sollux plays synth, I’m on bass, Dave is on turntables, Dirk is on accordion—“

“Wait. Accordion?” you interrupt her. “What kind of band is this?”

“Dirk just shows up when we want to include a little something different in the music. We play gigs every Saturday night; that is, if you’re interested. If not, then we don’t do gigs. We don’t form the band. Look, asking directly is Vriska’s thing, but I’m gonna come right out and say it. Are you in or not?” Her dark eyebrows knit together, daring you to respond.

“I literally just met you. Are you unanimously decided to get me in the band?” Your voice is indignant.

The girl looks around the table. “Any objections?”

No one shakes their head or makes any moves. Then, the lanky Asian guy, Sollux, you think, raises his hand.  
“Are you against polyamory and/or gay people?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine with polyamory and I’m bi.”

Sollux exchanges a meaningful look with Terezi and one of the brothers. Dave, maybe. They seem to decide on something nonverbally, then Sollux shifts his gaze back to you.

“Fine with us.”

You look around, and the other girls and Dirk are nodding their heads. “So that’s literally your only qualification. That is honestly the biggest shit the bull has ever shat.”

“We need a goddamn guitarist. Come on. You’re either in or you’re not,” Vriska spits at you. “If you’re not, then feel free to peace the fuck out.”

You close your eyes, mulling it over, and then you reach a decision. “I’m really gonna regret this, aren’t I.”

Jade and Kanaya both stand, giving sounds of happy exclamation, the brothers stand to shake your hand, and Terezi cackles. “Welcome to the team.” Sollux and Vriska both nod, and while Vriska stands there, still sipping at her coffee and rolling her eyes at the dramatics, Sollux sits, watching you. You’re not sure what he wants, but somehow, you can’t tear your eyes away from him as you imagine the expression under his shades. As Jade slaps you on the back with a hand you never thought could be that strong, you continue to look at him. Somehow, you get the feeling that he’s analyzing you, processing everything about slowly, strings of binary rolling behind his eyes.

You think that he’s not going to like what he finds.


	2. In Which A Rivalry is Established and A New Talent Is Exposed

Your eyes are glued shut, and with some difficulty you pry them open. Your eyes adjust to the light streaming through the slats of your bunk bed, and you remember last night.

_You and your newly formed band go to Kanaya’s apartment to discuss the details. The floors of Kanaya’s apartment are clean, every surface sparkling, except some stains and marks on the counters. There are socks thrown on the ground, and a hairbrush covered in long blonde hair lies on the glass table nearby. You think it’s a pretty safe bet to attribute these imperfections to Vriska, who you’re starting to dislike more and more as the night passes. She keeps making comments to Terezi at your expense, and while you yelled at her, saying something along the lines of “ass-sucking immature imbecile”, she continues to whisper into Terezi’s ear. Terezi cackles loudly, the sound ringing off the light orange apartment walls._

_“That’s not true, Vriska, he’s cute in a weird way. Like, he could probably yell at you and try to drink your blood, but at the same time he’s a cuddly dork.”_

_You interject angrily. “No I’m not! I’m not a fucking stuffed bear, stop being a weirdo.”_

_“He’s like... irritatingly cute. Or… scarily cuddly. Or… Adorabloodthirsty!” She cackles even louder._

_You open your mouth, ready to unleash you typical foul-mouthed prose, but Dave cuts you off._

_“Adorabloodthirsty. I like that.”_

_“Shut the fuck up, why don’t you?” Your voice rises slightly in pitch._

_“Karkat.” Kanaya’s voice immediately calms you slightly, though your shoulders remain tense. “Adorabloodthirsty. I quite like it too.”_

_Sollux shrugs. “It’s a good name.”_

_Dirk nods his approval, and Kanaya nods. “I believe we have just named our band.”_

_Everyone looks at you._

_You stare, openmouthed. “Oh **fuck** to the no.”_

_After an hour of your fervent protests, the band name is decided: Adorabloodthirsty. You sit on the couch in defeat, seething._

_You all agree to start meeting in two months, as Dirk and Terezi are finishing up their senior year of college and need to focus on their exams. Everyone hugs each other, with the exception of you._

_You begin to walk out the door, but Kanaya calls your name, and something in her voice calls you back into the apartment._

_“Karkat, I believe that we should possibly discuss something.”_

_“Yeah, Karkat. How do you feel about that?” Vriska appears over her girlfriend’s shoulder._

_“Hush, dear.” Vriska harrumphs at Kanaya’s dismissal and stomps off towards the bedroom. When the door shuts, Kanaya puts her hand on your shoulder._

_“Karkat. Your singing voice is, for lack of a better phrase, the worst thing I have ever heard.”_

_You open your mouth, ready to protest, but she stops you with a raised finger. “However, I believe we can change that. Your voice, from what I’ve heard, seems to have no breath control or support, and you exhibit difficulty in rounding your vowels and pronouncing your consonants. Your voice is void of any tone whatsoever, your lack of vibrato causes your voice to go flat, and you rely heavily on the use of your chest voice.”_

_You look at her, raising your eyebrows in confusion. “So… what are you saying?”_

_“Karkat, I am a high school choral instructor. Besides that, though, I provide vocal lessons. With your permission, I would like to give you lessons. You have potential, and I believe that as a guitarist, you will have to sing backup for Vriska and I, or maybe lead in a song with notes that we cannot reach.” Her eyes are soft and wide._

_“Kanaya, thanks for the offer, but I literally have about two thousand dollars in my bank account. I can’t pay you.”_

_“Whoever said anything about payment? You are a member of my band, and as a vocalist and longtime guitar-searcher, I believe that you should be trained appropriately. Tomorrow afternoon at five, come back to the apartment, and we’ll start your lessons. In two months, I can prepare you to sing at least a few songs very well.”_

_“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You turn to leave. “See you tomorrow, Kanaya.”_

_“Karkat,” she calls. “I look forward to it.”_

You’re jarred from your thoughts by the sound of the mattress above you creaking and the unhappy groan that follows. “Goddamn it, is it morning already? Fuck that shitty blue star for appearing over the horizon.”

“It’s not a blue star, dumbass.”

“Why don’t you shut up and lemme sleep, Vantas?” You hear the body above you flip over a few times, then a loud, exasperated sigh. “Fuck the sun.”

Caliborn English appears, brown feet climbing down the bed’s ladder. “Where’d you put all the groceries in this hole?”

You swing your feet out of bed, feeling almost dwarfish next to his enormous, muscular form. You’re a fairly tall guy at 5’10, but Caliborn is a towering 6’2, two hundred pounds of muscle and sinew, and scary as shit. His tattoos are impressive, spanning his biceps and back, and his dark, almost jet-black skin is offset by the bulky white gages in his ears. He’s attractive, you suppose, but not to you. You prefer less scary guys, like Sollux, with a nice ass and—

“Vantas! Where’s the fuckin’ food?” Caliborn’s early morning irritated growl is creeping towards anger.

“Up your ass and around the corner.” You point him to the pantry, and he grumbles as he starts searching for a saucepan for eggs. “Bacon’s in the freezer.”

Caliborn cooks, humming quietly to himself. You’re pretty sure that “Oops I Did It Again” is being mumbled in the direction of the saucepan, and you smirk, looking for jeans to pull over your boxers.

Caliborn and you have a pretty weird relationship. He put out an ad for a roommate, and you applied. You were the only applicant who tolerated him long enough to discuss a shared apartment, and it turned out that his income is almost double what you make per month. He didn’t really care about you only contributing a third of the rent of the one-room apartment, which was pretty cheap anyways. No, you’ve never asked, but you’re pretty sure Caliborn just wants company. He doesn’t seem to have any friends, and occasionally he’ll go out with some girl and get his dick sucked, but he still needs someone to be around. You guess the reason that you accepted was because you need company too.

You decide you should probably tell him about last night. “I’m gonna be making more money in two months. Then I’ll pay my half of the rent regularly.” 

“Yeah? Why?”

“I joined a band. We’re starting up in a bit and one of the girls in the band has a place where we can perform for some cash.”

“A band. What if it doesn’t work out?” His eyebrows raise skeptically.

“Then we stick to the system we have now.”

“Any hotties in the band?”

“Yeah, I guess, but most of them are taken. There’s the bassist, she’s cute, and the accordionist is pretty hot, he’s kind of a stoic prick though—“

“Vantas, shut up, I’m not gay.”

“You keep saying that, but we both know about the porn folder on your phone. If I remember, twinks are your thing.” You try not to smirk.

“Fuck you.”  
“Sorry, you’re not my type.” You grab your guitar case and walk out, ducking the projectile spatula that Caliborn flings at you. “You missed.”

 

You knock Kanaya’s door, hoping Vriska doesn’t answer. Kanaya opens it, grinning, and waves you in.

“All right, we will start with some basic vocal exercises. I trust you’re well hydrated? Good.” She sits down at her Yamaha keyboard, propping its legs up against the wall. “We’re going to do an exercise with thirds. Repeat after me. Mi, may, mah, moh, moo.”

“What? How is that gonna—“

“Karkat.”

“Fuck. Fine. Me, may, mah, moh, moo.”

“All right. Now, shape your vowels as if you were an opera singer, and instead of using your head voice, sing from your diaphragm. You told me you are a spinto tenor? Let’s try that exercise again, this time doing that, with piano.”

She plays the starting pitch, and you begin to sing the thirds. Kanaya waves her hand to stop you on the “mah”.

“Karkat, are you listening to me? I said quite clearly to round your vowels. Your “mee” sounds nasal, the “may” is under the pitch. Try it again.”

“Dammit!” You ball up your fists.

“Karkat, try it again, and this time listen.”

You do it again, this time surprising yourself at the resonance in your tone. “Shit, that sounds good.”

“Yes, but you need to pronounce your consonant more clearly. Draw out your breath by counting to twenty-five. Ascend for a fifth and descend the same way.”

You have a feeling that the next two months are going to be more trying than you thought.

 

“You’re really gonna sing tonight, huh? Kan must have worked a miracle with you these last two months.”

You, Kanaya, and Vriska walk into the soundproof recording room at Dave’s record studio. You look at Vriska with unmasked contempt, and you choose this moment to rub yours and Kanaya’s little secret in her face.

“Well, it’s a pretty amazing miracle because I’m gonna be singing with you tonight.” You smirk hard, watching the expression on her face going from smug to horrified to furious.

“No. Hell no. That’s not happening. I heard you sing the first night I met you, and there’s no way I’m gonna let some wimpy-voiced asshole steal my position!” Her voice rises in panic, and you smirk even wider.

“Vriska. Karkat, under my training, has improved exponentially. I have helped him with everything he struggles with, and with my coaching, which sometimes spans to three hours a day, he has truly managed to make himself a good singer. I will continue to help him improve, but tonight you need to give him a chance.” Kanaya’s voice is calm and firm.

Vriska sputters, looking at you. “Fucking _fine._ But only for her. I don’t care about you.”

You nod. And from the recording booth in which Dave sits, you hear a soft “Oh my god, just hatefuck already.”

 

In the last two hours, the rest of the band has filed in, each sitting down at their respective instruments. Dirk has brought you an old electric guitar that belonged to his sister, who never ended up playing it, and you accept the gift after a few half-hearted protests. Sollux is at the synth, idly answering an email sent by the head of his IT division, Terezi is behind a bright red drum set, grinning widely for no apparent reason, and Vriska, Kanaya, and you are doing mic tests. You’ve talked it over, and the first song that comes to mind that all of you know is “Alpha Dog” by Fall Out Boy. Drums, electric, bass, synth, and a ray gun sound effect. Vriska and you have been scratching out the lyrics on a notepad, scribbling in blue and black ink where the two of you will enter. At last, you’re all set up, and Terezi counts you off. You and Vriska make eye contact, and while you look at each other with spite, you can see a flash of excitement in both your eyes.

“One, two, three, four!”


	3. In Which Two Crushes Bloom and We're Not Quite Sure Who Is The Alpha Dog and Who Is The Omegalomaniac

_Bar 1._ Your fingers are sure on the strings, playing the familiar pattern that you’ve known since high school, this time with Sollux, Terezi, and Jade banging out their parts in a beautiful cacophony of noise.

 _Bar 2._ Vriska leans over from the mic next to yours. “Don’t fuck this up for me.”

 _Bar 3._ Kanaya speaks from across the room, where she watches you. “Remember our training.”

 _Bar 4._ You remember the last two months, singing this very song in the shower, practicing the parts that you knew you’d be singing.

 _Bar 5._ Your fingers still steady, your breath shockingly even.

 _Bar 6._ The nights you spent listening to Patrick Stump’s voice belting and trying to match his tone.

 _Bar 7._ You are fucking terrified.

 _Bar 8._ You are so ready.

 

Vriska starts singing, her voice strong, confident, and flashy. “Clap until your hands hurt, standing ovations or b-b-boos. W-w-w-w-watch us until we blur, walk off into the sunset.” She shoots you a look.

You replace her voice without hesitation, falling into your darkest bass voice. “Tell rock and roll I’m alone again, I wanna put the Midwest home again.”

Vriska comes in an octave higher than you, and as Sollux plays a high harmony, the two of you match voice, finding the unison that you never expected would sound so good. “Your time has passed, they say never means never, solar flash stares won’t last, but never means forever.” You hold out the long note of “forever” as Vriska sings harmony over your racing fingers and Terezi’s even beat. As you repeat it again, you and Vriska make eye contact, flashing twin predatory grins at each other. “Never means forever…”

And then the world explodes, the two of you soaring through the high notes in bright-voiced power. “Alpha dog and oh-oh-oh-megalomania-a-ac, ah ah ah ah-ac.” Vriska splits off into the higher harmony. “Alpha dog and oh-oh-oh mega-mega low-oh.” She starts improvising, inserting “Whoa”s between the breaks.  “Welcome to the new déjà vu, I can almost see the wizard through the curtains. Alpha dog and oh-oh-oh-megalomania-a-ac, ah ah ah ah-ac.”

Your guitar blasts through the air, and Jade and you grin at each other, both your fingers moving through the same eight beginning bars. Sollux bangs out improvised chords, adding power to the loud riff that joins you and Jade, Dave slams the button for the ray gun sound, and Terezi, still grinning, lays into the drums harder than ever as you and Vriska start singing.

Your lower harmony supports Vriska’s melody, carrying it through the sound booth like a siren. “We must have the best coats, tell the best jokes, we must make it hard to look so easy doing something so hard.” You yell the next bars at the top of your lungs, slamming your fingers down on the frets at top speed. “You must see my wink, they squint when they look at me,” Vriska jumps in with you, shouting, “I’m a, I’m a star, I’m a, I’m a star—“and the two of you fall with the drums and bass into a soft, smooth blend “I’m a star.” Vriska puts a growl in her throat as she solos the next part. “Whoa, I’m a star….” And you, Jade, and Terezi slam your hands onto the frames of your instruments, your guitar wailing in the noise of crashing drums and vibrations from Jade’s corner.

“Alpha dog and oh-oh-oh-megalomania-a-ac, ah ah ah ah-ac. Alpha dog and oh-oh-oh mega-mega low-whoa-oh.” You hold strong on your melody as Sollux’s synth and Vriska break off into their respective parts. “Welcome to the new déjà vu, I can almost see the wizard through the curtains. Alpha dog and oh-oh-oh-megalomania-a-ac, ah ah ah ah-ac.” And then it’s time for your highlight as Dirk begins strumming the guitar, Vriska jumps a full octave above you and the other instruments go silent.

“You’re not the first, or the last, but you’re possibly the prettiest.” The drums and your electric come back in as Dirk drops out. “Whoa, he’s a fighter past his prime. He’s in the gutter waving his hand, I’m just fine.” Vriska takes the upper harmony, which you know from practice is no easy task. “You’re not the first, or the last, but you’re possibly the prettiest. He’s a fighter, past his prime, he’s in the gutter waving his hand— Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh.”

This entrance is more violent than ever before with the banging of the drums, the sudden forte of the bass line, and Vriska’s powerful stomach voice. “Alpha dog and oh-oh-oh megalomania-a-ac, ah ah ah ah-ac, alpha dog and oh-oh-oh mega-mega low-whoa-oh-ah-oh.” Vriska howls some high notes over top of your melody, soul bursting from her voice like fireworks, the air heating up. “Welcome to the new déjà vu, I can almost see the wizard from the curtains, alpha dog and oh-oh-oh-megalomania-ah-ac, ah ah ah ah-ac.”

The descent begins, Vriska still improvising, showing off the agility of her voice, following your guitar line. Dave’s ray gun cuts her off abruptly, and the drums go silent.

 

You and the others stare at each other, and you note the expressions on everyone’s face. Jade is smiling harder than you’ve ever seen, Terezi’s smile has only broadened and become more intense, Sollux is looking at you thoughtfully, an expression on his face that makes your stomach warm. Dave and Dirk are emotionless but for the slight hint of a smile, and Kanaya is staring at you and Vriska, warmth, love, and pride stamped across her face. You and Vriska catch each other’s eye at the exact same moment, and for a moment, you don’t quite know what to do. Then, without even thinking about moving, you walk towards Vriska and extend your hand.

“Truce?” You maintain an unwavering stare into her blue eyes.

“Hell fucking yes, truce. That was really fucking impressive.” She grabs your hand and shakes it vigorously, and you swear that the rest of the room sighs in relief that your war is finally over. And you smile at her with a wary anticipation, lean forward, and give her a hug.

She’s visibly surprised, but slips back into her façade without much hesitation. “Easy, Vantas. I’m taken, remember?”

You roll your eyes and sit down at a chair. Everyone is still clearly shocked, but as you begin to take it in, a loud buzz begins to envelop the room.

“TZ, did you see the way I improvised? Tell me that wasn’t the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen.”

“Bro, I played acoustic for the first time in a few years.”

“Mr. Candy Red, I didn’t know you were so good! You kept up with my rhythm the entire time.”

“I’m so proud of all of us!”

“OK, but did y’all hear my sweet-ass perfectly timed ray-gun sound effects?”

“Bitch, please, my synth was better than all of you together.”

A chorus of “Shut up, Sollux,” echoes around the room, and as you settle down, Kanaya comes around and hugs every single one of you. As she arrives to you, kissing your cheek, she whispers into your ear. “Karkat, you were absolutely incredible. I’m so, so proud.”

You hold back tears of joy at someone telling you, for the first time in you don’t know how long, that they’re proud of you _._

 

“Pick me up in five, all right? Oh, we gotta stop by Walmart to buy milk, since _someone_ drank it all. No, shut up, I made a milkshake last week, you were the one who drank it all this week. Fuck you, asshole! No, you’re the lunatic here! All right, fine. See you.”

“Your girlfriend’s mad at you, huh?” Sollux looks over at you, the start of a smirk on his face. _Wow, he’s hot,_ you think, then snap out of it.

“Why don’t you mind your own business and shut the hell up? I don’t pry into your personal life, so stay the fuck out of mine. Anyways, it was my roommate.”

“All right, dude, calm the fuck down. You don’t need to be so uptight.” He looks you up and down, his eyes slowing as his gaze reaches yours. “So, I was thinking, you wanna grab coffee sometime?”

 _What?_ “Like… What do you mean?” You’re puzzled; you just met the guy two months ago, he wouldn’t be asking you on a date, right?

“Like a date, KK. It’s cool if you don’t wanna, but just asking.” The barest hint of a blush creeps onto his face.

“But… Aren’t you with Dave and Terezi?”

“Dude, polyamory is a ton of different things, not just three people in a relationship. If your partners are open to you seeing other people, that’s chill. I talked it through with TZ and Dave. They both were thinking about making a move on you, but I guess they realized that you were a shouty asshole later than I did. Anyways. You in or not?”

“Uh. Yeah. Sure.” You’re still confused, but you let him take your phone out of your hand and enter his number in. “I’ll text you soon.”

The racing of your heart stops as Caliborn enters the room. “I’m looking for a douchebag guitarist, about five foot ten, oversteps his boundaries?”

Terezi points him over to you. “Over there,” she says, winking at him. You sigh. Is there ever going to be anyone not wanting to bang your roommate?

“C’mon, let’s go. The car’s sitting in the parking lot and I don’t want it to get stolen.”

Dirk walks up to you, not taking Caliborn into account until mid-sentence. “Yo, Kat, can I get a ride h—oh. Well, hello there.”

You smack your forehead in frustration. Ignoring you, Dirk slings his hand around Caliborn’s waist, much to the other’s shock, sidling up to him and looking into his eyes seductively. “So, you’re the one going to give me a ride, huh? Well, I guess if I need to ride something, I know who to call.” Caliborn sputters, looking to you for help, and you shrug, still shell-shocked.

It’s not even 7 at night and you’re fucking done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ship Vriskat more than Solkat, but I love Karkat enough to give him some happiness, which Vriska could likely not provide.


	4. In Which Dirk is a Flirt, Karkat Finds Something, and Adorabloodthirsty Plays Their First Gig

Night starts to fall as Caliborn’s beat-up third-hand Toyota Avalon clanks through the street. You’re in the backseat, and you’re starting to wish you’d walked.

“So, I just got out of college, and I’m looking for a job, and I figured that I might be able to work at some kind of training facility, seein’ as I’m pretty fit.” Dirk starts to slip into his Southern accent, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t hot. Caliborn is sweating slightly, getting increasingly flustered. “You’re a personal trainer, right?”

“How… How the fuck did you know that?”

“Well, I used to date a guy who went to your gym. Honestly, I’d recognize his description of your rippling ass anywhere.”

Caliborn’s eyes widen, and your jaw drops as Dirk reaches his hand around Caliborn’s, which is idle on the gearshift. Caliborn actually seems to be going for it, as he doesn’t move Dirk’s hand away.

“So, Karkat, can I trade you places?” Dirk purrs at you.

“What… What does that even mean?” You’re starting to pray for the ground to open up and swallow you.

“You know, I’d kill to have a roommate as sexy as this one. Mmm, those fucking calves. You probably have a six-pack, huh, big guy?” He moves his hand up to Caliborn’s bicep, tracing over his tattoo.

“Ohh-kay!” you yell as Caliborn stops the car. “We’re at your place. Bye, Dirk, and good riddance. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see ya, Kat. And you, babe. I hope I’ll see you soon.” He winks, and then he’s gone.

Caliborn floors the gas, zipping towards your apartment. You open your mouth to make a smart-ass comment, but Caliborn silences you with a glare.

“Not one word, dunkass.”

You sit in silence for a few minutes, then speak up. “What was that about not being gay?”

“I’m not gay, fuckwad, he’s just really hot. And he was the one who came on to me.” You’re pretty sure if Caliborn was white, he’d probably be blushing.

“Uh, okay, tell yourself that. You know, being bisexual is a thing.”  You look at Caliborn, and he nods abashedly.

“Okay, _maybe_ I think he’s hot.” You arrive at the parking lot of your apartment, and when you get out of the car, you notice. _Oh my god, he has a boner._

You giggle before you can stop yourself, smirking full force. “I think I’m gonna go for a walk while you rub one out.” You toss him the keys, ignoring the shout of “Goddamn it, Vantas” that follows you into the night.

 

You expected that you’d be at your apartment and just chill with a bowl of ramen for the rest of the evening, but you’re a bro, and you understand when a guy needs to varnish his flagpole. That said, you have no idea what to do.

So you do the only thing you can think to do. You call Sollux.

“Hello?” His voice is tinny, but you’d still recognize it anywhere.

“Yeah, hey, it’s Karkat. Listen, my roommate needed some privacy, and seeing as I’m not a complete asshole, I left the apartment. And now I have nothing to do. So do you wanna go somewhere? It beats being fuck-meltingly bored.”

“Uh, yeah. Sounds good. Look, my apartment’s about half a block away from Subway. You wanna go there?”

“As much as I fucking despise subs, that sounds okay. Meet you there in ten minutes.” You hang up.

As you walk towards your impending date, you start pondering exactly what Sollux wants from you. You’re not sure if you’re entirely comfortable with the idea of going on a date in such a long time; you haven’t gone out with someone since high school, and even that was short-lived; you made the girl cry, and then her best friend picked you up and slam-dunked you into a Dumpster. You’re honestly not that great to be dating. You’re a skinny half-Indian kid with anger issues, and everyone who’s ever gotten close to you has had your self-esteem issues affect them. That’s why, until two months ago, your only friend was Caliborn; he can actually put up with your angry, lonely self-hate crap because he’s exactly the same. 

So what does Sollux want? Does he want a casual fling or no-strings-attached sex? You assume that’s not it, considering he has Dave and Terezi around, who seem more than happy to provide it. And that’s another thing you don’t understand; he has Dave and Terezi, so why would he need you? You’re not going to lie; you know next to nothing about polyamory, so you have no idea what’s going on in his head right now.  All the same, you know that you think he’s cute, but you don’t know how he feels about you.

You arrive at Subway, the green neon lights giving your anxiety-induced headache a painful rejuvenation. As you push the door open, you see Sollux sitting at a table near the back, biting into a sub, his twin lip rings wrapped around the bread. You imagine, just for a moment, that you’re standing above him, seeing the blue lip ring as you throw your head back while he bites your neck—

“Vantas, I’m glad you made it.” You’re rudely awoken from your fantasy (probably for the best) by Sollux’s voice.

“Oh. Uh, yes. Nearly froze my ass off walking here, so you better make it worth my while.”

“I plan to.” You’re hoping you’re hallucinating and his voice didn’t just drop a couple pitches.

You sit, and after a few moments of awkward silence, you speak.

“Look, normally I’d act pissier, but I think you’re cute so that’s out of the question. I’m just gonna come out and say it. What’s your angle?”

“My angle. Like, a ninety-degree angle, or an acute angle?” He is doing his best to suppress a smirk, but you can see it.

“Wipe that filthy shit-eating grin off your face and answer the question. I’ve got a metaphysical gun with a full barrel of question bullets and I’m about to fire them at you, so take fucking cover.”

“What… Okay, fine, I don’t even know what that metaphor is supposed to mean. But fine; I like you. I think you’re a decent guy, even if you’re a shouty asshole and you’re arrogant as hell. You’re a good guitarist, and I actually think it’s adorable when you fly off the handle. So there you go. Straight 180-degree angle right there.” He smiles briefly, then looks back at you. “So now I’m gonna holster up the questions cannon; why’d you agree to go out with me?”

“Does there have to be a reason? Maybe I was just really fucking bored. Maybe I didn’t really think it through. Maybe you just asked me and I was like why the fuck not.”

“Hmm. So I guess you staring at my ass every time I turn around has nothing to do with it.”

You gape for a good three seconds, then go off on him. “Why would I give a shit about your ass? I give no shits. All my shits are strewn up the ground, mingling with mountain runoff to form a gargantuan river that proudly displays exactly how many shits I do not give.”

“Wow. Your metaphors are really graphic, apparently.” He’s smirking, the smug asshole.

“The graphicness of my metaphors has absolutely nothing to do with you. I’m going to mix all the metaphors I want in a giant-ass bowl, throw it in the oven, and feed you a goddamn delicious metaphor cake with simile chocolate sauce and a big fat analogy cherry on fucking top. I will then proceed to laugh at you as you begin spewing metaphors from ever orifice in your body until you are dehydrated and exhausted.”

The smirk turns into a soft chuckle.

"If you're trying to make a point by laughing at me, it's wandered around the forest, fallen prey to a wolf, and become lost on me entirely." Your voice has gotten louder, and Sollux raises a finger to his lips, his body shaking with suppressed giggles.

"Don't tell me to "quiet down", Thunderfuck McPickuptruck. And don't you fucking dare laugh, that's a quality insult."‏ You’re attracting stares from the other patrons; a couple with a baby, two elderly women, and a gaggle of sixth graders accompanied by a stern-faced parent. They all look at you with disapproval, but you keep shouting down at the top of your lungs. Sollux is still losing his shit, and you’re pretty sure your face is fire-engine red.

"I think I have become impregnated with a baby made of pure idiocy. Surprise, it's yours. Prepare to become a father of the ultimate annoyance as I expel it from my swollen womb.” Sollux bursts into gales of laughter, snorts and cackles echoing around the restaurant. Your fury continues to augment itself. “Congratulations on becoming a dad. Good on you. The child has been born. I can take care of it and wean it on the irritation you inspire in me, which leaks out of each and every one of my pores.‏”

At this point, everyone in the shop is staring at you in absolute horror, the girl working the counter looking mortified. Sollux is literally rolling on the floor, his stomach heaving for breath, tears in his eyes as you continue to shout at him. You have lost any and all sense and are now screaming random words at him.

“Potato-fucking legionnaire with the insipidity of an ant. Bulbous moccasin snake with twice as much poison in your giant fangs that makes you the envy of every other slithering bottom-feeder in the country—“  
And your fury, along with Sollux’s hysteria, is ended by a hand on your shoulder, another hoisting Sollux up by his collar, and the two of you being roughly pushed out of the store.

The two of you fall onto the concrete, you landing on Sollux’s bony legs. You lay there for a moment, looking at the snowflakes falling from the sky. Then, for some reason that you don’t quite understand, you start laughing. You throw your head back and catch a snowflake on your tongue, finding Sollux’s eyes.

His eyes. It strikes you that you’ve never seen them; his lame 3-D glasses hide them constantly. So you look into them, and take in the striking disparity. One eye is bright green, the other blue, and it captivates you momentarily. You’re so distracted that you haven’t noticed Sollux moving towards you, or that you can feel his breath on your face.

“Heh.” The last vestige of a giggle escapes him.

“Yeah…” Your noses are touching.

“We look like fucking dumbasses. We’re sitting in the snow making heart eyes at each other. Do you know how fucking _gay_ this is?” He laughs, the noise sending vibrations through your face.

“You’re the assload who got us into this mess. We’re sitting in a pile of freezing sky vomit, and—“

“KK. Shut up.”

The wind whips through your hair as your lips gently connect with his.

 

“Are you ready, kids?” Vriska shouts, the cry echoing through the dark backroom of the bar.

“Aye aye, captain!” the entire band responds, even you. You have a surprisingly large grin on your face, and you’re holding hands in a circle with the other band members; Sollux is on your left, Kanaya is on your right.

“I can’t hear you!” Vriska, usually smirking, actually cracks a pretty genuine smile for this occasion.

“Aye aye, captain!” you whoop with the others.

“We’re gonna get out there, we’re gonna knock the socks off this joint, and everybody in this place is gonna be screaming our names by the time our set is over. Three songs that we’ve been working on for two months. Three chances to show the world just how fuckin’ great Adorabloodthirsty is. Now let’s go, and remember how awesome we are!”

Among the whoops and yells of your bandmates, you look at Sollux.

“Break a leg, asshole.” You lean in for a kiss.

“Hey, I’m not gonna jinx it by sucking face with you before the show. Let’s do that later, hmm?”

“Fuck you,” you mumble, and Sollux squeezes your ass, causing you to yelp in surprise. He winks at you, and the band goes out onstage.

The spotlight catches your eye, and you squint, having forgotten what it felt like. You grab the neck of the electric that Dirk gave you, slinging it from its position on your waist to across your chest. Vriska grabs the mic, turns it on, and stands next to Kanaya.

“Hey, we’re Adorabloodthirsty, and we’re gonna be playing three songs tonight. If you like us, which you definitely will, visit our site at Adorabloodthirsty.com.”

 _We have a site?_ You look over at Sollux, who winks. _Of course we have a site._

“First song we’re playing tonight is called “Girls like Girls” by Hayley Kiyoko. It’s about being gay, which is a core aspect of this band,” she looks at Kanaya and winks slyly, causing a smattering of applause from the audience. “Here we go.”

Jade starts plucking the intro under Vriska and Kanaya’s harmony. “Ooh-ooh, boys.” Terezi and you come in, you playing a soft, slow pattern, Terezi gently tapping the cymbals and the bass, the two of you converging to form a smooth rhythm.

“Stealing kisses from your missus doesn’t make you freak out, got you fussing, got you worried, scared to let your guard down.” Kanaya’s singing melody, and Vriska’s taking the high harmony, making sure to be quiet. “Tell the neighbors I’m not sorry if I’m breaking walls down, building your girl’s second story, ripping all your floors out.” Sollux comes in, playing in a higher octave, with Kanaya’s melody. “Saw your face, heard your name, gotta get with you. Girls like girls like boys do, nothing new. Isn't this why we came? Gotta get with you, girls like girls like boys do, nothing new, girls like girls like boys do. Nothing new.”

And all of you drop out except Jade, still plucking under the girls. “Ooh-ooh, boys.” And Terezi and you, looking at each other with gentle fire, enter again, your fingers plucking a steady pulse. “Always gonna steal your thunder, watch me like a dark cloud. On the move collecting numbers, Imma take your girl out.” Sollux brings his canon back. We will be everything that we'd ever need. Don't tell me, tell me what I feel, I'm real and I don't feel like boys, I’m real and I don't feel like boys.” During this line, Vriska and Kanaya get closer together, singing softly at each other. Jade plucks loudly, and the chorus starts.

“Saw your face, heard your name, gotta get with you. Girls like girls like boys do, nothing new. Isn't this why we came? Gotta get with you, girls like girls like boys do, nothing new, girls like girls like boys do. Nothing new.” Everyone drops out again, except Jade, who is still plucking gently, and Terezi, who is tenderly beating on the snare. “I've been crossing all the lines, all the lines, kissed your girls and made you cry, boys.” Vriska sings the line alone, looking, enraptured, at Kanaya, and for the first time, you understand how deep their relationship is.

And then Jade and Terezi drop out altogether, and Kanaya comes back in, singing with Vriska acapella. ““Saw your face, heard your name, gotta get with you. Girls like girls like boys do, nothing new. Isn't this why we came? Tell me if you feel it too! Tell me, girls like girls like boys do, nothing new Girls like girls like boys do, nothing new.” And just for theatrics, Jade ends the song with a gently plucked low G.

The audience goes wild, cheering and whistling. Vriska and Kanaya, though, don’t seem to see or hear any of it. They still stand face to face, and in one fluid motion, Vriska puts her arm around Kanaya’s small waist, still holding the microphone, and dips her backwards into a kiss. The audience stops cheering immediately, taking in the magic that flies around the two girls, seemingly stopping time. When Vriska pulls away, Kanaya looks up at her with stars in her eyes. Vriska grins, and gently lets her go, sweeping the microphone back up to her mouth.

“This next song is “Hate” by the Plain White T’s.” It’s your song; that is, the song that you’re singing with Vriska. You walk up and take the mic from Kanaya, who smiles at you, still dazed. “Let’s go.”  
You strike a power chord, leaning into the microphone and taking the low harmony. “Love, love, love love love love.” In an explosion of sound, Jade and Terezi lay into their respective instruments as you play a descending riff. Vriska starts singing, her voice strong and filled with spite. “You were everything I wanted, you were everything a girl could be.” You jump onto the high harmony. “Then you left me brokenhearted, now you don't mean a thing to me. All I wanted was your love, love, love love love love.” And the four of you lean into the chorus with a surprising synchronization.

“Hate is a strong word, but I really, really, really don't like you. Now that it's over I don't even know what I liked about you. Brought you around and you just brought me down, hate is a strong word but I really, really, really don't like you.” You go back to playing the riff, and you and Vriska jump into the rest of the song with strength. You end the song, and the only thing you can register besides Terezi and Jade’s yells of “Hey,” at random places is how good you and Vriska’s voices sound together. Vriska seems to have the same response, the two of you getting in each other’s faces the entire song. When you are done, you can feel her breath on your face, and you grin daringly at her. You barely hear the cheering, and when you and Vriska finally snap out of your harmony-induced high, the other band members are in place for the last number.

Vriska walks back to center stage, joining Kanaya, and starts talking into the mic again. “So, I bet all of you in here have had a scene or emo phase, am I right?” The bar ripples with embarrassed sighing and a few scattered cheers. “Well, now we’re gonna play the most historic of emo songs, so get ready for a blast from the past.”

Sollux changes his synth to viola setting and starts playing the opening, a simple pattern of “A E C, A B, A E C, A B, F# C D, CD, F# C D, C D, F B C, B C, F B C, B C” and the entire audience groans, recognizing the song that they had all probably jammed out to at some point in high school.

“Oh, well imagine, as I’m pacing the pews in a church corridor, and I can’t help but to hear, no I can’t help but to hear an exchanging of words.” Dirk comes in with low notes on his accordion, and Dave, who has pulled a xylophone out of seemingly nowhere, plays gently under Vriska and Kanaya’s voices. “What a beautiful wedding, what a beautiful wedding, says the bridesmaid to the waiter, and yes but what a shame, what a shame the poor groom’s bride is a _whore._ ” Vriska spits out the word with delighted venom, and Terezi, you, and Jade slam down on the chorus.

“I chime in with a haven’t you people ever hear of closing the goddamn door, no, it’s much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality…”

And you think, somewhere in the sweat, the noise, and the music coursing through your veins like heroin, you may have finally found something like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally posted this; it took a hella long time to write.


	5. In Which Caliborn Finally Caves, The Band Gets Signed, And Everyone is Happy for the Time Being

 “Rise and shine, sleepyhead.” A hoarse voice wakes you from a dream of adoring crowds, and you turn over onto your side. Caliborn is up before you for once, and he holds out the phone. “Your boyfriend’s on the line, he wants to ask you about band practice tonight.”

You pick up the phone, sighing. “What do you want, asswad, it’s ten in the morning and we were up playing a gig until three last night.”

“Dirk can’t come to practice tonight, so we need to reschedule. Does tomorrow night work for you?” He sounds pretty bad too, and you figure either Dave or Terezi called to tell him.

“Yeah, sounds okay. About tonight, you wanna hang at your place?”

“Sounds okay.” There is a sharp click on the end of the line, and you put it down, collapsing back into bed.

“What was that about?” Caliborn, who is frying eggs, turns around to look at you.

“Nothing, Dirk can’t show up today, so we rescheduled.”

A clattering sound makes you sit up again; Caliborn has dropped the whisk onto the floor. “Fuck!”

He picks it back up, turning his back to you, but you can hear a question in his voice. “So, did Dirk say why he wasn’t gonna show up tonight?”

“No, he didn’t. Why do you care?” You yawn, stretching your arms.

“No reason. What, a guy can’t be curious?” He whisks the eggs more vigorously.

“Do you know anything about it?”

“Uh. No, why would you ask that?” His arm is threatening to drop off if he whisks any faster.

“Oh my god. You’re the reason. You guys are totally going out tonight.” Your smirk has erupted across your face.

“So what if we are, what’s your issue?” he grumbles at the saucepan.

“Whatever happened to Caliborn “I’m not gay” English?” You raise your eyebrows, daring him to speak.

“I’m not gay. You know, bisexuality is a thing,” he mocks at you. “Anyways, have fun at your boyfriend’s.”

“Remember, buy the right size of condom, lots of lube, and make sure you do foreplay first. Foreplay is important, and Dirk happened to tell me that he has a serious oral fixation.” You smile at him, getting a savage joy in seeing his embarrassment.

“Dude, shut up! I know how to—wait. Oral fixation?”

“Caliborn, when gay people are very attracted to each other, they do tasks that don’t involve baby-making—“

You’re interrupted by a muttered “Fuck off”. You slump back into bed, closing your eyes and forgetting everything around you.

 

“Jesus Christ, Sollux. I’m so tired. This band is gonna be the death of me.” You’re slumped on Sollux’s couch, your arm around him, and you are seriously praying that you didn’t forget deodorant this morning.

“Well, maybe I can make that death a little bit sweeter.” He leans in to kiss you, and you smile into the kiss, snapping back to grouchiness as he breaks it.

“Ugh, you’re such a cliché douchebag, why don’t you stop trying to sweep me off my feet and just make out with me for once?”

“Your wish is my command.” He leans into you, but instead of kissing him, you take advantage of his closed eyes and quickly maneuver yourself so he falls over and faceplants onto your crotch. Unable to control yourself, you start laughing, and he looks up at you from your lap with an expression of absolute irritation.

“That isn’t the kind of encounter I want to have with your crotch today, KK.”

You laugh even harder, the tears starting to roll down your face, but you stop when you see Sollux’s face. He looks at you with stars in his eyes, and his mouth is slightly open, like he’s just seen heaven for the first time.

“What the hell, man, you look really out of it.” You tilt your head at him. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just… You’re gorgeous when you let your guard down. I love you so much, Karkat, and I’m so happy that you can be yourself around me.”

“Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head.”

And as he pulls your face down into another kiss, you smile even wider, not even caring that you look stupid and lovesick.

 

You walk into your apartment, flipping on the light switch. “Cal, I’m -- holy shit!”

Caliborn jumps up from the top bunk, a spiky blond head stirring from besides him.

Dirk sits up as well. “Hmm, babe, what’s wrong?” He rubs his eyes, then sees you. “Oh, hey Karkat.”

You start smiling, a laugh bubbling up in you. “Oh my fucking god. This is rich.”

“Karkat, did you tell him about my oral fixation? Because this guy knew exactly what to do.” He bats his eyelashes at Caliborn, who is looking somewhere between embarrassed and angry.

“Caliborn, did you enjoy yourself?” You cannot pass up this opportunity. “I knew you’d fall for him; he can convince anyone to let him suck their dick, and he’s got the pretty hair and eyes to do it.”

“Shut your sewage-spewing mouth,” Caliborn growls. Then he seems to make up his mind about something.

 “You know what, Karkat, fuck you. I like him. He’s a hot piece of ass and even though he’s an aggravating pretty boy, he’s still my boyfriend. That’s right, I said boyfriend. We’re a thing. We’re dating. How do you like that, douchebag?”

And he swings around to face a surprised Dirk, grabs him by the chin, and kisses him hard. You avert your eyes to the floor, blushing slightly as you hear the sounds of their lips colliding over and over again.

When they finally end their makeout session, you are sitting in the bottom bunk, plugging your ears and trying to ignore the noises coming from above you. As the noises cease, you think that they may have fallen asleep, so you take your fingers out of your ears. Then you hear Dirk talking.

“Did you really mean that? Are we actually boyfriends? Because if so, I want to be aware of it. I thought that we were just kind of casually hooking up, but I’m willing to give this a try. Be warned though; my brother’s obnoxious, my mental state is a wreck, and I don’t know if I’m any good at relationships.”  
Caliborn grumbles a bit, then responds. “Yeah, sure, I’m willing to try it. I’m utter shit at relationships, so I guess we’re both in the same fast-sinking boat.”

You can’t see them, but you can hear from Dirk’s voice that he’s smiling. “Is spooning a thing that couples do?”

Caliborn’s voice is still gruff, but you hear an amused undertone in it. “Probably. Get over here, asshat.”

And against your will, you grin, as the mattress above you creaks with the weight of both turning on their sides.

 

“Guys, I have the most incredible news.” Dave shoves the door of the recording studio open, excited and agitated.

Sollux looks up, his head in Terezi’s lap. “Dude, what’s the big deal?”

“First of all, don’t call me ‘dude’. You had my dick in your mouth this morning. Second of all, the paperwork finally went through. We’re signed to Strider Labels!”

Vriska jumps up. “Yes!” She hugs Kanaya, who looks stunned, then breaks into a happy grin. Your mouth drops open, then you leap up and hug Dirk. Terezi and Sollux high-five, and Jade pumps her fist into the air.

“We’re also playing at Skaia tomorrow night, and Derse and Prospit the next.”

All your mouths dropped open. Skaia is the most upscale club in the city, and Derse and Prospit is an all-weekend music festival. It would seem that it pays to have connections, especially one of the most well-known DJs in the city. 

 

The sweat runs in rivulets off your face as you finally end your set at Prospit. The crowd is going wild, chanting your names. Your eyes grow wide, and when you see Sollux across the stage, he winks at you with a slight smile. This is the same dream you’ve had every night since you graduated college, and finally it’s a reality. The lights go down, and you make it into the backstage rooms, searching for Kanaya. You have something to tell her.

The rest of the band seems to have gone into another room than the one that you left your case in. You used the Mayor for this show; all the songs that you played were acoustic. You look at him, noticing with a strange joy that his body is still untarnished by scratches and dents. You hadn’t played him for a while; you thought maybe you’d forgotten all the spots on his body, all the places that made him truly erupt in song as you guided your hands across his strings. Tears start welling up in your eyes, a lump in your throat forming, though you don’t know why.

“Karkat?”

You jump away from the case, eyes snapping to Kanaya’s figure in the doorway.

“Uh. Hey, Kan. Listen. I have something to tell you.” You step closer to her, and her mouth drops open when you grab her and sweep her up in a hug.

“I owe everything to you and Vriska. Well, mostly you, since Vriska just stands there and snarks at me.” You hold her against your chest, looking down at her hijab.

“Karkat, I…” comes her muffled reply.

“You taught me to sing. You encouraged me, you were the one responsible for taking me off the streets, you’re the one that believed in my skill when I barely did. And I love you so much.” You tilt her face back and kiss her on the forehead, gently and in a purely brotherly way. “Consider yourself part of my family.”

Kanaya smiles, and already her eyes are brimming with tears. “You’ve been part of mine since the day we started training.”

You see Sollux appear in the doorway, followed by the rest of the band. Without a word, he comes up behind Kanaya and leans into you as well. Vriska looks at you, and with a halfhearted eye-roll, she tucks herself under your arm and wraps her arms around Kanaya’s waist. Terezi and Dave, holding hands, smile, and then join the hug as well. Dirk and Jade fall into the mass of bodies as well, and you’re pretty sure that you’re all crying a little bit. Then you hear a throat being cleared from the door.

“Well, this is awkward.” Caliborn is leaning awkwardly against the door. “Uh, I’m here to pick up Karkat.”

Dirk and you look at each other, and you both smile. Dirk laughs, and grins at Caliborn.

“Get over here, asshat.”

And as you stand there, a new set of arms enveloping you, a single tear drips from your cheek onto Kanaya’s head. Your mind floats away on an unfelt breeze, drifting into a scene of roaring crowds, wailing riffs, pounding bass, and a unity unlike anything you’ve ever known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm full out sobbing. This has been an amazing experience, and I.... am not going to start talking about my feelings or I'll start bawling again.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea on my mind for a couple of months now, and I couldn't think of a good short fic to write, so I decided I'd start on the long one now. It's gonna take a bit to finish, but I hope that it'll be the best thing I've ever posted.  
> Follow me on tumblr at enviableceruleanswill if you want to :)


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